The Hardest Hole to Dig
The hardest hole to dig is a grave, especially when you're crying as you do it. This morning my best dog buddy, Clover, passed away.
He was a rescue dog from the SPCA. He and his sister were "given up." My wife and daughter Gabrielle found them and told me about the pair of pugs. I said, "Take 'em both," but that wasn't allowed and while we were waiting the sister was adopted, so Clover became ours by default. Or Divine Grace. Even bringing him home was fraught with problems - he caught kennel cough and had to be quarantined. Then when he was past the quarantine date he had to be neutered. When I visited him he was always very quiet and shy.
I was working for New York Life at that time and when Lydia called me and said he could be picked up, I had no appointments so I drove out and picked him up. He was still sedated from the operation, so I placed him in the passenger seat beside me. That way I could talk to him and rub his fur to let him know he was loved.
And he was. By everyone.
It's funny how pets bond to someone, and Clover certainly bonded to me. At night he slept beside my bed. If I got up in the middle of the night, he got up. If I slept in, he slept in. Wherever I sat, he sat, in my lap. When I went down to my office he followed me. As he got older and slept in more, when he awoke he'd come to my office and scratch on the door. When I went out on my photographic travels he would be waiting at the front door for me.
Recently he was diagnosed with cancer, so sometimes he was too weak to walk, so I had to carry him. It was like carrying a baby. In his old age, he was 11 years old, he had gone blind but he always seemed to know where I was and would gaze right at me.
This morning he passed away in my arms.
Pastor Chuck Swindoll was once asked if there would be animals in heaven. He said that for many years he would gently tell a bereaved pet owner he didn't think so. Until he did a sermon series on Revelation and read, "Now I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse. And He who sat on him was called Faithful and True...And the armies in heaven, clothed in fine linen, white and clean, followed Him on white horses..."
And he had to ask himself, "Where'd the horses come from if there aren't any animals in heaven?"
Maybe it's poor theology or wishful thinking, but to an old man who held his dog in his arms as he passed away, I'm going to choose to take solace in that one day I'll be able to hug, pet, and play with a long line of dogs - Clover, Rocky, Ladybug, Fritz...all the way back to Pretty Girl.
